“Son of David, have mercy on me!” That is what the blind man cried in today’s Gospel. And in that cry he spoke words of truth that are deep indeed. “Son of David.” There is no title for Jesus that gets more to the heart of what He said He would happen to Him in Jerusalem. “For he will be delivered over to the Gentiles and will be mocked and shamefully treated and spit upon. And after flogging Him, they will kill Him, and on the third day He will rise.”
Son of David. Think of what happened with David and Bathsheba. After the great King had committed adultery with the wife of one of his soldiers, after she turned up pregnant with his son, after his failure to make Uriah think that the child was his, after he arranged the murder of Uriah and tried to make it look like an accident of warfare, after he then took Bathsheba into his house as his wife, after he thought he had gotten away with it all, Nathan shows up on the royal doorstep with a story.
The story of the poor man and his little ewe lamb, which was snatched from him and killed to serve as a rich man’s feast. David, the former shepherd, now King, became very angry. He said: “The man who did this deserves to die.” And Nathan whirled around and confronted him: “You are the man! You did this!”
You can see the color drain from David’s face as Nathan proceeds to expose to him and to all the court the sins which David had thought he had successfully hidden. One after the other, Nathan named the sins of David. And David sunk beneath the weight of the truth. He was crushed and devastated. He did not try to excuse what he had done. He did not order Nathan killed and so silenced. Instead, in utter honesty David confessed: “I have sinned against the Lord.”
To that confession, Nathan spoke a word of absolution. “The Lord has also put away your sin.” Then he added some curious words. I wonder if we hear them correctly: “You shall not die.” The Lord put away David’s sins, and so David did not die. But another would. You shall not die. But the child born to Bathsheba shall die. That is, the little son of David shall die. And die for the sins of another.
“Son of David,” cried the blind man! That is, the One who is truly David’s Son, flesh of his flesh and bone of his bone, and who as David’s Son is on His way up to Jerusalem to be handed over to the Gentiles who will mock him, and treat him shamefully, and spit on him, and flog him, and kill him. And all for David’s sins. And not just for David’s, but for the sins of all people. Yours and mine too. The little son of David had no choice in the matter. He suffered innocently, true enough. But he was, as were the many animals sacrificess, an unwilling victim, and so an altogether inadequate sacrifice. The little son of David was only a type. He pointed ahead to a greater Son of David. One whose death could truly wipe out sins, because it wouldn’t be a forced death, but a voluntary one.
Jesus walks the road to Jerusalem and it is a road that He wills to walk. No one makes Him. He himself said it: “No one takes my life from me; I have the authority to lay it down, and I have the authority to take it up again. This command I have received from my Father.” (John 10) The absolution that Nathan spoke to David is anchored in the voluntary death of David’s Son; as is the absolution spoken to you.
To give the absolution its power, to demonstrate its truth, Jesus heads up to Jerusalem to lay down His life and to take it back up again. “They will kill him, and on the third day he will rise.”
He wanted them to be in no doubt that what was about to transpire in the holy city was no tragedy that befell him, nothing outside of his control. He was giving himself into it, and He gave Himself into it in the confidence that He would rise again on the third day. He would die the death for David’s sin, and the sins of all the people of Israel, and the sins of all the Gentiles. He would die the death for all. But death was not the end for this Son of David, for He was innocent. He would be raised again, but not like those He raised from the dead. He would rise in a body that never subjected to death again. Incorruptible, and so made the source of incorruption for all who believe in Him.
The disciples just didn’t get it. St. Luke makes that clear: “But they understood none of these things. This saying was hidden from them, and they did not grasp what was said.” They were the ones who were truly blind; it was ironically the blind man who really saw. For He called Jesus both “Son of David” – in other words, the one who would suffer and die for the sins of others – and he calls Him, “Lord,” confessing that He has the power to give sight to the blind. “Then shall the eyes of the blind be opened” said Isaiah. Then when? “When your God will come and save you.” (Is 35:4)
And so the blind man who saw, even before his eyes were opened, pleaded with the God, with the Son of David, with the Lord, for mercy, and he received it. Not only seeing eyes, but then the privilege of following Christ up the road to Jerusalem with eyes wide open to the mercies of God.
“We are going up to Jerusalem.” We, too, for Lent is upon us. Let us not follow Christ on the road to the cross with the blindness of the disciples, who feel sorry for what Christ is about to undergo. Rather, let us follow with the sight of the blind man. For our Lord goes forth as the Son of David, to suffer for a world gone wrong. He goes forth as the Lord, who rises from death and leaves it shattered in pieces behind Him, granting freedom from death, resurrection and incorruption to all who believe. Let us follow Him up the road, joining the formerly blind man as he glorifies God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, the God who loves mankind, whose mercy opens blind eyes and leads His people home, now and ever and unto the ages of ages. Amen.
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